Can I Call You Dad?
by Ficus-Avenger
Summary: Commander Vimes' daughter has a new boyfriend that he's sure he won't approve of. But who is it?
1. Chapter 1

Author's Note: Okay, the plot to this is probably going to seem pretty familiar. I was reading 'A Future Life' by HRH The Feline Queen, and I thought it could've been done slightly differently. I don't mean any offence; I'm just having fun with it. Oh and um, I don't have permission to copy the storyline, so if Feline Queen wants it taken down just let me know.

* * *

"Dad's going to go spare."

Sybil Vimes nodded slowly. "I think that's a definite possibility, yes."

"Mum, you're not helping!" Marissa exclaimed. "You're supposed to be all supportive and tell me it won't be that bad and stuff."

"Well, I don't think I should lie to you, dear--"

"This is so unfair!" Marissa threw herself down into a chair and began to pout. "I'm sixteen years old! I should be allowed to date who I want."

"And you can, dear. Within reason."

"How can you say that? You won't let me date Robby Rust anymore and Dad threatened to shoot Patrick Selachii if he even set foot on the grounds."

"I did say within reason, Marissa." Sybil took one look at her daughter's expression and sighed. "You know full well that Robert Rust has been arrested three times in the past two weeks for being Drunk, Disorderly and Bloody Annoying."

"But what about Patrick? He hasn't been arrested for anything."

"No, dear, but he practically lives at Mrs Palm's these days and you know how your father feels about that sort of thing."

"He so old-fashioned; everyone goes to see the Seamstresses these days."

"That's not true, dear," said Sybil. "Carrot doesn't."

"Carrot's weird."

"Your brother doesn't either."

"Sam's a freak of nature."

"Don't be mean about your brother, Marissa," said Sybil with a smile. "Does _he_ visit the Seamstresses?"

Marissa gave her a wary look. "No, of course not."

"And would you be happy if he did?"

"No, but—okay, I get it, Patrick's no good. But seriously, Mum, there's nothing wrong with visiting or being a seamstress anymore. Everyone does it!"

"And if everyone else jumped off a cliff would you do that too?" asked Sybil.

"It depends how in it was at the time."

"You have no idea how much I hope you're joking, Marissa."

* * *

"…Then you turn into Clay Lane and proceed into the Pits, follow the street into—Dad, do I really have to do this? I have to do the bloody patrols every bloody day as it is," grumbled Sam as they left the Watch-house. 

Vimes took his cigar from his mouth and smiled. "And you'll continue to do them until you can tell me them correctly."

"But _why_?"

"Because policing, _real_ policing, isn't about glad-handing officials and screaming at Vetinari to get a bigger budget, Sam. It's about knowing the streets like the back of your hand and being able to take one look at them and knowing what's going on. You've got to develop policeman's eyes, lad."

"Sounds painful."

Vimes swatted his son on the back of the head lightly. "Don't be cheeky. You know, a lot of lance-constables would jump at the chance for a bit of extra teaching from their commander."

"That's rubbish and you know it, Dad," said Sam. "All the others run away from you when you come into the Yard. You scare them."

"Shows I'm doing something right then."

"Whatever."

Vimes shot a sideways glance at Sam and sighed. "Okay; what's wrong?"

"What?"

"I was going to leave it up to your Mum to ask you, but I'm getting the feeling a bit of fatherly advice would be better. So what is it?"

"It's nothing," said Sam grumpily.

"Sam, you've been a grumpy sod all week. I know something's wrong. Now what is it?" asked Vimes. "You know I'm not going to stop asking until you tell me."

Sam squirmed uncomfortably. "It's about Emma, Dad."

"Carrot and Angua's daughter? What about her?"

"Well, I think she's really pretty, Dad. And she's funny and smart and…" Sam trailed off and sighed. "But she thinks I'm a pillock."

"What makes you say that?"

"I think it was the bit where she came up to me last week and said 'Sam, you're a pillock'. I've got no chance."

"That depends; was she smiling when she called you that?"

"Yeah, she was grinning. Why?"

Vimes smiled. "One of the things you should remember about women, Sam, is that if they smile when they call you something like that, then they think it's an endearing character trait or something."

"Oh."

"Tell you what; I'll ask Carrot to put you and her on patrol together for the next week or so. You can find out for sure then."

"Thanks Dad," said Sam happily, already imagining himself saving Emma from some desperate criminal.

"Good." They finally reached the door of the Ramkin-Vimes mansion and stepped inside. "Sybil? Marissa? We're home!" yelled Vimes.

Marissa ran out into the hallway to greet them. "Daddy!"

Instantly Vimes froze. "Oh gods, what've you done now?"

"What do you mean?" asked Marissa innocently.

"Every time you call me daddy, it means you're up to something, Marissa. Or you've done something you know I'm going to find out about."

"She's probably run up a bunch of parking fines again," muttered Sam. "I saw the file Nobby and Visit have on her; it's an inch thick."

"No, it's nothing like that," Marissa said, glaring at him. "I've just invited one of my friends here to meet you, that's all."

"A male friend?" asked Vimes suspiciously. He walked into the sitting room, his children trailing after him. "Marissa, if you've invited that Rust boy here again…"

"It's not him, dear," said Sybil. "I've already checked."

Vimes sat down beside her on the sofa. "Who is it then?"

"It's probably best if you find out when he arrives," said Sybil.

"So you know who it is?" asked Vimes.

"Yes, but I promised I wouldn't tell, dear."

"It's Nobby, isn't it?" grinned Sam. "He's your type, isn't he, sis?"

Marissa threw a cushion at his head. "Shut up."

"Sam, don't tease your sister. Marissa, don't throw things at your brother," said Sybil absently. She smiled at Vimes' worried expression and patted his hand reassuringly.

They all looked up as someone knocked on the door.

"That's him!" cried out Marissa. She leapt up to go and answer it but Vimes grabbed her arm as she walked past.

"Let Willikins get it," he said evenly. "You know he'll sulk if you get it for him." Marissa nodded hesitantly and sat back down.

A few seconds later Willikins appeared at the doorway. "Lord Vetinari is here to see you, your grace."

"Oh." Vimes nodded as the Patrician entered the room. "Is something wrong, sir?"

"Good evening to you all," said Vetinari pleasantly. "Why would something be wrong, Vimes?"

"It's just that you've never visited me at home before, sir, unless something was happening."

"Oh, well everything's fine," said Vetinari, waving a hand dismissively. "Why are you all gathered in here like this?"

"We're waiting for Marissa's new boyfriend to turn up," said Sam. "Sir."

"Ah, I thought so." Vetinari walked over to the girl and kissed her hand before sitting down next to her. "Marissa."

She smiled back. "Havelock."

Vimes stared at them. "Sybil, get my crossbow."

"Sam, calm down," said Sybil hurriedly.

"_Calm down_? How can you ask me to _calm down_?!"

"Well, it could be worse, dear."

"_How_?"

"Excuse us a moment, please." Sybil gave everyone an apologetic smile and grabbed her husband's hand, dragging him out of the room.

Sam eyed at the happy couple warily. "So…um…so how long have you been going out?"


	2. Chapter 2

Sybil shoved her husband into the drawing room and shut the door behind them. "Sam, you really do need to calm down."

Vimes glared at her. "How could you not tell me about this?"

"I only found out about it an hour ago--"

"So? You could've sent a clacks to the Yard or something, Sybil! Instead I come home to find…" He shook his head in disgust. "He's too old for her."

"I agree there is a bit of an age difference but--"

"A bit?" said Vimes incredulously. "She's _sixteen_! He's got to be at least sixty-something."

"Havelock is seventy-one, dear, the same age as you," said Sybil. "Look, I didn't agree with it at first either, but she says she really loves him. Maybe, when you feel that way about someone that big an age difference just doesn't matter."

"Bollocks!" snarled Vimes. "He's old enough to be her grandfather."

"Well, dating an older man does have its attractions…" Sybil trailed off as her husband's glare turned up a few notches. "This probably isn't the best time to mention it, but Marissa said she thinks Havelock's going to pop the question sometime soon. That's why she wanted to bring him here this evening."

"No way." Vimes punched out at the nearest wall, wincing slightly as it connected. "There is _no way_ that my little girl is going to marry that man."

Sybil sighed. "You know as well as I do that if you tell her that she'll go out and do it anyway. She got her bloody-mindedness from you."

"She can't marry him if I lock her up in the cells at the Yard."

"Havelock's the Patrician, dear. He could order you to release her. Just come back into the sitting room and talk to them."

"Fine." Vimes aimed another punch at the wall. "But I don't care if he's Patrician or not; if he's touched her, I'm going to kill him."

* * *

Marissa looked up nervously as her father and mother re-entered the room. "Is everything okay, Daddy?"

Vimes ignored her. "I think you've got some explaining to do, Vetinari."

The Patrician smiled. "I suppose I do, don't I? But I think Marissa could explain events better than I could though; her version is much livelier."

"I don't care if she tells the story while juggling firecrackers and a live cat. I want to hear it from _you_," snarled Vimes.

"Very well," said Vetinari. "As you are aware I've known your daughter a number of years, Vimes. But it wasn't until I saw her at the soiree for the Klatchian ambassador two months ago that I finally realised what a lovely young woman she's grown into."

"Emphasis on the word 'young'," muttered Sam.

"You're not helping," Marissa hissed at him.

"I know; I feel just wretched about it."

"You are such a loser."

"Look who's talking, you're dating a bloody geriatric!" Sam chuckled for a moment, then remembered exactly _who_ that geriatric was. "Um, no that there's anything wrong with that, of course…"

"I'm so glad you think so," said Vetinari dryly. "Now if I may continue?"

Sam nodded nervously.

"Good. As I was saying, I was most impressed with your daughter, Vimes." Vetinari gave Marissa a fond smile. "She has become an incredibly beautiful and charming young woman and I have to admit, that evening she captivated me."

"And then what happened?"

"Well, nothing. I wanted to find out if Marissa felt the same about me as I did about her, but I didn't think it appropriate. Then Sybil approached me about the possibility of tutoring Marissa for her Political Expediency class."

"And you used your influence and position to seduce my teenaged daughter, did you, you bastard?"

"Daddy, it wasn't like that," interrupted Marissa. "He was a perfect gentleman during the classes; I chased him, honestly."

Vimes shot Vetinari an inquisitive look. "She was rather persistent," Vetinari admitted. "I was quite flattered really."

"I see." Vimes took a deep breath. "Sybil, Sam, Marissa; will you leave the room for a few minutes please?"

"Sam, what are you going to do?" asked Sybil worriedly.

"I'm just going to have a little chat with his lordship." Vimes gave Vetinari a shark-like smile. "You don't have a problem with that, do you, Vetinari?"

"Not at all, Vimes."

Sybil and Sam stood up to leave but Marissa stayed sitting. "I'm not leaving," she announced. "Anything you say to Havelock you can say to me too, Daddy."

Vetinari patted her knee affectionately. "It's quite alright, my dear. Do as your father asks."

"But--"

"Marissa, please." The girl shot him an anxious look but nodded hesitantly and left with her brother and mother.

The two men stared at each other.

Vetinari smiled. "So Vimes, what do you have to say to me?"

* * *

"So what exactly _is_ the attraction?"

"You mean apart from the fact that he's gorgeous?"

"Yeah, gorgeous for someone who's practically a walking corpse, he's so old."

"Well at least I don't fancy someone whose dates mostly consist of going out for walkies!"

"Yeah? At least she can walk unassisted and--what do you mean dates? Is Emma seeing someone?"

"Children, please." Sybil sighed and rubbed her temples. "I think I'm getting a headache."

"Yeah well, its Sam's fault," grumbled Marissa.

"How do you figure that?" asked Sam. "You're the one dating Vetinari."

Marissa snorted. "Like you wouldn't, given half a chance."

"Hardly, I'm not into necrophilia. Besides, I'm not gay."

"That's not what it says in the toilets at school."

* * *

"—you total, total bastard!" shouted Vimes. "That's my daughter! You're old enough to be her grandfather!"

"I can't help who I'm attracted to, Vimes," said Vetinari calmly. "Just as I can't help the fact that Marissa feels the same way about me."

"Yeah, but _you're_ old enough to know better! She's never even had a proper relationship, for gods' sake!"

Vetinari smirked slightly. "Oh, I can assure you that is no longer the case, Vimes."

"_WHAT_?"

"Oh, er…perhaps that was the wrong way to put things--"

Vimes got off the chair and began to walk towards him, his face flushed. "Are saying that you and Marissa have…" he struggled to get the words out, "…had sex?"

"Well, not yet but--"

"_Not yet_?"

Vetinari smiled at him apologetically. "I can be rather old-fashioned about these things, I'm afraid; Marissa was quite disappointed. But as I told her, there will be plenty of time for all that after the wedding."

"Wedding?" asked Vimes, his voice now dangerously calm. "You plan to marry her?"

"Of course." Vetinari chuckled slightly. "I am somewhat fond of her after all. And it wouldn't do to engage in a relationship with the girl without some form of commitment first."

"And if I say no?"

"You know as well as I do that it won't do any good, Vimes, Marissa can be such a stubborn girl. I wonder sometimes where she gets it from." Vetinari gave him a wide grin. "Besides it would give your family a certain something, wouldn't it, if you had the Patrician of Ankh-Morpork as a son-in-law?"

Vimes groaned. "Oh gods, this gets worse…"

"Anyway about that, Marissa and I were wondering: can I call you Dad?"

* * *

"—and then in the third cubicle it said that you serviced the entire alumni association," continued Marissa as Sam struggled to control his panic. "It says that's why you got the award for outstanding achievement in the fourth year."

"Marissa, stop teasing Sam."

"But it's true, Mum! Maybe not about the alumni's," Marissa conceded, "but it is about the graffiti; just ask Lily Downey, she's seen it too. So have lots of people." She grinned nastily. "So has Emma Ironfoundersson."

Sam's head shot up. "What? When? How?"

Marissa waved a hand dismissively. "Oh, it was when Lily tried to inhume Celia de Worde by tying her up and setting fire to Black Widow House because she found out Celia had been dating Stephen von Lipwig behind Lily's back and the Watch were called in to help sort out the rioting."

"Oh, I remember that," said Sam distantly. "I wondered why everyone kept running in the girl's toilets and coming out laughing."

"Now you know why."

"Bugger."

"If it's any help, she couldn't stop laughing. Especially when she saw the drawings of it all in the fifth cubicle."

"_Sybil! Kids! Can you get back in here, now_?"

With a heavy sigh Sam trudged back into the living room. As Marissa turned to follow him, Sybil grabbed her arm.

"Marissa, is what you said about that graffiti true?"

"Yeah."

Sybil nodded. "I want it gone by tomorrow night, Marissa. All of it."

"Aw, but Mum, some of those sketches were really hard to do--"

"Marissa…"

The girl sighed. "Yes Mum."

"Good girl." Sybil gave her daughter a hopeful smile. "Let's go and see what your father and Havelock have been talking about, shall we?"

As the two women re-entered the room Marissa gave her father a wary look before sitting back down next to Vetinari. He moved away slightly. "I don't think that's a very good idea, Marissa."

She gave him a surprised look. "Why not?"

"Your father doesn't approve of our relationship, my dear," replied Vetinari sadly. "He has banned me from seeing you."

"But you're the Patrician!"

"And he's your father. I must respect his wishes," Vetinari glared at Vimes momentarily, "even if I don't agree with them."

He stood up as Marissa burst into tears and Sybil ran over to comfort her. "I think I'd better be going, Vimes."

"I think you should." Vimes watched Vetinari leave the room before turning to his daughter. "It's for the best, Marissa--"

"How can you say that?" shrieked Marissa as tears poured down her face. "I love him and now you're sending him away without even giving me a chance to say goodbye!"

Sybil looked at her husband imploringly. "She's right, dear, we should at least give her and Havelock say goodbye to each other."

Vimes sighed. "Fine. But we'll be watching from the window, so no funny business."

"Thank you, Daddy!"

As Marissa ran from the room Sybil looked after her sadly. "I guess she really did love him after all."

* * *

"Havelock, wait!"

Vetinari raised an eyebrow as Marissa came running out of the house towards the coach. "Vimes has changed his mind, I take it?"

"No. But he did say that I could say goodbye to you before you left," said Marissa slightly breathlessly.

"Ah. He's still angry then."

"Absolutely furious."

They both grinned.

"You were _brilliant_."

"Me? I was just trying to keep up with you, my dear; you played the part of a love-struck young woman perfectly."

"Thanks. And you were excellent as the slightly creepy older boyfriend. You've really freaked my dad out."

"Capital." Vetinari glanced behind her at the window, where Vimes had his face pressed up against the glass and was waving a crossbow menacingly. "You think you've achieved your aim, then?

"Absolutely." Marissa giggled slightly. "If he kicks up a fuss about me dating Robby again then I'll just say that I'm still in love with you and it should shut him right up."

"I'm glad to hear it. So what will you do now?"

"Oh, I've got it all planned; I'm going to watch the carriage leave with a really sad look on my face, go inside and burst into tears, refuse to come out of my room for two days and not speak to anyone for the rest of the week. That should do it."

Vetinari smiled. "You've proven yourself a master manipulator, my dear, and a prize student too. You're obviously no longer in need of my tutelage."

"So I've passed?"

"With flying colours. I shall inform your Political Expediency tutor at the Guild immediately."


End file.
